


A Bottle of Gin on a Starry Night

by WithYouTillTheEndOfTheShield



Series: Radio Silence [4]
Category: Alien Series
Genre: Backstory, Gen, Original Character(s), Pre-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 19:03:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3702591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WithYouTillTheEndOfTheShield/pseuds/WithYouTillTheEndOfTheShield





	A Bottle of Gin on a Starry Night

She can hear her father talking downstairs. Can hear the radio playing some old army song, can hear the laughter and jokes. Cautiously, she steps out onto the landing, avoiding the fourth plank from her door because she _knows_ it creaks and she's supposed to be in bed. She creeps over to the banister and cranes her neck, trying to see into the front room. She can make out someone's back and shoulders, but nothing more. After a moment's pause she returns to her room, closing the door behind her with a gentle click and heading to the window. There's no tree outside her room - her father made damn sure of that when they moved here eight years ago. He knew, even then what she was like, and 'no daughter of mine is going out causing trouble when she should be studying or sleeping!'

Luckily though, he never ended up cutting down the thick ivy outside her room, and if she's careful enough, she can use it to scale the wall. Like tonight. She's wearing her boots, she's got her rucksack slung over her shoulders, and she looks the epitome of rebel child as she clambers down the wall and drops onto the lawn lightly. If she peeks in through the window she can see into the study, and through the open door, across the hall into the living room, where her father is having some sort of reunion with his buddies. In all fairness, he has every reason to. He made Captain last week. 

She turns away from the window and out onto the street, checking her watch. 11:25. 

"You're late." She spins around to see Delilah perched on top of a nearby car, grinning wolfishly in the darkness. "We agreed on 11:20."

"Shut up." Dana extends a hand to help her friend down, which is ignored as Delilah drops to the floor. "You snuck out of an empty house. If I remember correctly,  _your_ parents are at  _my_ house."

Delilah mimics her childishly as they stroll along the middle of the road casually. "Although, that was a nice bit of athletics getting down from the window. I thought you were gonna sneak out the back?"

"Way too much chance of getting caught. I did that a few weeks ago when I went out with a couple of the guys, and was this close to getting busted." She holds her fingers up millimeters apart before shrugging. "Besides, I knew you'd be around somewhere watching. Wanted to show off."

Delilah raises an eyebrow. "You went out with the guys? When?"

"Couple of weeks ago. You were off at that family reunion, remember?"

"Ugh." Her friend pulls a face. "That."

Dana laughs and pulls the packet of cigarettes out of her bag that she swiped from the desk in her father's study. "So, I pulled these -"

Delilah cuts her off. "Oh Dana, please."

"What?!"

She's staring at the packet, completely disgusted. "I hate those things."

Dana dangles the pack in front of her face. "Can't hate 'em if you've never tried 'em."

 

 

They're sat up by the creek twenty minutes later stomping the cigarettes out and coughing violently. "Alright, you can hate them now."

Delilah splutters out some crude response, digging around in her own rucksack for a bottle of something. She takes a few sips before passing it across to Dana, who's still massaging her chest gently. She took a pretty big drag of that cigarette. "What's this?"

Delilah shrugs, leaning back on the grass, happy now that the cigarettes have been extinguished. "No idea. Grabbed whatever was furthest back in the cabinet that wasn't champagne or wine."

"It tastes like petrol." Dana mutters, taking a swig. Delilah looks across at her wearily, raising an eyebrow. 

"Well then why are you drinking it?"

The other girl shrugs. "Dunno. Maybe I like the taste of petrol." She giggles, and Delilah rolls her eyes, laying back down on the grass fully. 

"Lightweight."

"Fuck off."

There's a long silence while they just sit, passing the bottle between each other and talking about nothing important, until Dana starts throwing pebbles into the creek. Suddenly, she looks pensive, a line appearing between her eyebrows. 

"What are you gonna do when we graduate, Dee?"

Oh God, she's  _this_  kind of a drunk. Delilah sits up, eyeing her friend. "Thought we talked about this before? We're both signing up, remember? It's what we've talked about, since we were kids."

Dana shifts uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze ad tossing another couple of pebbles into the creek. They listen out for the splashes, and Delilah presses her. "Dana?"

"I dunno, Dee. I guess I just don't really want to go into the service any more." She brings her knees to her chest and loops her arms around them, gnawing on her lower lip. "I mean it's not like it was ever really my big plan, is it? It was always what my Dad wanted."

Delilah can't honestly say she's surprised. Dana does the training, just like her. She does the drills, wakes up at reveille, does everything the other army brats do, but she's never done it with any fervor or drive. Not like Delilah, not like most of their friends. "What would you do instead?"

"I kind of like the idea of being an Analyst."

"And being stuck behind a desk?" In the darkness Delilah can't see her properly, can just make out her silhouette against the moon. But it's clear she's turned her face so that she's looking down at her. 

"Intelligence analyst. I looked it up, they can go out with groups of Marines. It's about policy, diplomacy. Peacekeeping."

"All your favorite bits of war." Delilah jokes, but when Dana doesn't reply, she realises she's struck a nerve. "Hey, Dana."

"Pop's gonna hate me." She mutters, picking at blades of grass. Delilah sits up properly, puts an arm around her friend's shoulder. "Although I guess it's kind of gonna be a relief. I mean, can you imagine me as a Marine? Behind enemy lines, with a gun in my hands? He already thinks I'd make a crappy soldier."

"You don't take orders very well." 

"Neither do you." She counters, and Delilah laughs. 

"I can fake it."

It takes a moment, but Dana reaches for the booze and changes the subject. "Let's get wasted and talk about guys."

 

They do. It's another half an hour, but Dana's literally rolling around on the grass laughing her ass off. It takes a little longer for Delilah, but she's not far behind her friend. "Okay, Fuck, Marry, Avoid... Drake, Carl, or... Peter."

"Aw man!" Dana slaps her forehead, snorting with laughter. "You can't choose guys we're friends with, De! S'just  _mean_!"

"They aren't gonna hear it." Delilah takes another swig. 

"Okay..." Dana pauses for a minute, struggling to think clearly through the haze of alcohol. "Okay, I'd fuck Carl."

"Course you would."

"Shut up. I'd marry Peter 'cause he'd let me keep having Carl on the side -"

By this point Delilah's laughing her ass off. 

"And I'd avoid Drake because..." Dana rolls over onto her front, struggling to come up with a good reason. "'Cause I don't know, he's got green eyes."

"That's a shitty reason, Dana." She passes the bottle over to her friend, who takes a sip, eyeing it up for a second. 

"How come this bottle's half full?"

"I brought two bottles."

"Hmm..." Dana looks intrigued, but hands the bottle over again and rolls onto her back. "Alrighty... I've got a... A question."

"Shoot." 

"Describe your ideal man." Dana points blindly in her direction. "And don't say a woman."

Delilah throws back her head and laughs. It's not funny, and the little voice in the back of her head that isn't quite smashed yet is  _telling_ her that it isn't funny, but she laughs anyway because she's drunk and it's Dana. "My perfect guy... Tall... I think blond. I like blond guys. Good sense of humor, obviously." She glances across at Dana. "Got to be a good soldier. Good under pressure, you know. The kind of guy who'd have my back if we went into combat. Reliable."

There's a long pause while Dana just breathes heavily, trying to form a coherent sentence. And then;

"Christ you are such a fucking Marine."

And they're off again, shrieking with laughter like they don't have a care in the world. Like LV-426 isn't being colonised, millions of miles away. Like aliens aren't lying dormant beneath the rock, just waiting for their hosts. 

 


End file.
